


The Inaugural Heroes Ball

by kleine_aster



Category: DCU
Genre: Creepy, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_aster/pseuds/kleine_aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, the Inaugural Heroes Ball is coming, and … (This is really silly and makes no freaking sense, but it was fun, so I kept going. It also probably marks the return of Ditz!Dick from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/562115">About Last Night</a>, and Bruce has the mad relationship skillz of a middle schooler, sorry you two!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inaugural Heroes Ball

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairing:** Bruce/Dick  
>  **Characters:** Bruce, Dick, Barbara, and a bunch of masks  
>  **Genre:** Humor, Romance, ~~Brainfart~~  
>  **Universe:** Mix-and-mash. There's a tip-off at the end, but it'd probably all fall apart if you pulled at it XD  
>  **Words:** 4,660

Dick Grayson couldn't get a date.

He couldn't get a date, and it was a strange, new, bewildering experience.

It started with that invitation from Superman they all received. " _The Heroes Ball is a tradition I'm hoping to start,_ " a visibly indignant Batman read out loud, brow furrowed underneath the cowl, " _We all deal with hardships and dark times in our daily lives, and what could be a better remedy than coming together for an evening of fun and joy with our most trusted frie…_ "

He trailed off, having obviously grown bored in the middle of reading it, tossed it onto a pile of criminal records, where it'd undoubtedly soon get buried underneath more criminal records, and put his welding mask back on.

"I don't see the correlation between _fun_ and what _he's_ suggesting," he grumbled to Dick, who he'd been reading it to, before he resumed working on the submersible Bat-glider.

Dick, on the other hand, really wanted to go. First, he was friends with pretty much everyone who'd been invited, second, it genuinely sounded like a good time, and third, ever since he'd been a little boy, you would have to literally break a chair over his head to keep him from hanging out with Superman. So there was no doubt in his mind that he'd participate, and he sent his RSVP to the secret mailbox the day he got the letter.

However. Superman's invitation encouraged them all to bring a date, and of course that date had to be another hero.

It was embarrassing to admit, but Dick waited a few days for his phone to ring; for someone – or multiple someones – to ask him out. He wasn't full of himself; it was force of habit. That was in all honesty what usually happened, if all his school dances and galas and college parties were anything to go by. But this time, his line stayed silent. It was his first indicator that he might have possibly overestimated his popularity a little bit.

Well, it was no big deal. He was a young man of initiative; he was confident he could find someone. That was, he was confident at first.

The first one he tried was The Flash. He was a good guy, he had red hair, he wasn't currently seeing anyone, and Dick was under the impression that they'd always had a nice, flirty vibe going.

"So," Dick brought it up one evening, when he met him for rooftop pizza, "The Inaugural Heroes Ball is in a month, and …"

"Right!" Dick saw the other hero grow pale beneath his freckles. "Well, this was fun. Gotta go. T'was good seeing you, bye!"

And he dropped his pizza slice and was gone in, well, in a flash.

The next one Dick tried was Jimmy Olsen. Jimmy wasn't a costumed hero, but he was tight with their community, he was another cute, freckled redhead, he was single, and they always used to have so much fun together in their clubhouse.

"Hey Jimmy," Dick crooned at him, "So, Superman's told you about the Inaugural Heroes Ball, right? I was thinkin', I'm sure you have a hot new bowtie to wear -"

"Gosh, pal, look at the time!" Jimmy promptly shot back, even though they'd just started talking, "I'm tellin' you, Lois is gonna rake me over the coals if I don't have these negatives ready for her in an hour, I really gotta run! T'was good talking to you. Toodles!"

Dick was left blinking at his phone. _Toodles?_

And things got weirder from there.

"I already gotta date!" Roy Harper shouted at him from a distance when he saw him approaching, before turning on his heel and jogging away as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving Dick behind baffled, and unsure what to do with the polished smile he'd just put on.

Hawk and Dove both hung up on him. Aqualad flat-out pretended not to be home, even though he _clearly_ was. Superboy claimed on the phone that his dinner was burning.

"I'm pretty sure you don't eat – " Dick interjected, but it was too late.

He was running out of options, and he was trying _really_ hard not to take it personally. It was growing more and more difficult, however. This had _never_ happened to him before.

Despite not being a fancy ball person in general, he had really been looking forward to this one. Normally, when he had to go to events like this, it involved playing a part, distracting people from who he really was, what he really did. But this would be different; he'd be surrounded by people who'd seen him at his best and worst, people who he'd fought and bled with. This was arguably the reason why Superman had initiated this in the first place, since Dick knew the Man Of Steel frequently struggled with the duality, himself. It was a good idea. And he'd go alone if he had to.

It was just that he'd never _had_ to.

It bothered him enough that he nearly brought it up to Bruce, whom he trusted, but it seemed too trivial to mention to him. And waiting for Batman to ask "How are things going?" was the equivalent of waiting to shrivel and die from exposure. So he simply kept his mouth shut while they crawled around beneath that drug baron's barb-wired defenses on Saturday, and handed Bruce his explosives; probably wouldn't have been a good moment to mention it, anyway. Feeling Batman's weight on top of him while he threw himself on him to shield him from the shrapnel had an oddly comforting effect, but that was about it.

"Hey, Babs," Dick eventually asked his one platonic red-headed friend over ice cream, "Am I stuck up?"

"Are you what?" She muttered distractedly, struggling with the spoon in her gigantic strawberry sundae.

He propped his chin on his hand. "Tell me the truth. Am I … am I unapproachable?"

That got her attention. "Dick, are you joking?!" Barbara Gordon raised an eyebrow in his direction, stabbing the ice cream with her spoon in a scandalized fashion. "I'm telling you, civilisatory conditioning is literally the _only_ thing that's kept a bunch of men and women who saw you on the street just now from following you _right_ into this café in a beeline. You are the _opposite_ of unapproachable. It's like your _soul_ is made of _Velcro_." 

"That's …sweet. I'm assuming." He bit his lip and looked down, appraising his Banana Split. 

"It's just … you know, the Inaugural Heroes Ball is in three days." He was embarrassed to even bring it up. He felt like he should be able to deal with rejection; even if said rejection seemed sudden and mystifying. "And I don't have anyone to go with." He frowned. "And … you know, I'm confident enough to say it's probably not my looks." He winced. " _Or_ my personality, if I'm honest. Okay, _maybe_ it's the puns; I'm not sure about that one. But it was … you should've seen them, it was as if they were _terrified_ of me –"

"They're not terrified of you!" Babs blinked at him as if he was missing something obvious, then stabbed at _him_ with her spoon. "They are terrified of your pointy-eared boyfriend!"

Dick felt a wave of heat roll across his face. 

"What?" He croaked.

"You know," she said under her breath, before impatiently waving her hand. "Batman," she specified, which was unnecessary, since Dick had gotten there at _pointy-eared boyfriend_. 

She turned her attention back to her sundae. "Mmm, this is really good," she stated, as if she hadn't just dropped a hive of bees in his lap, "I think they use real strawberries – "

"Babs." The tips of his fingers had started shaking. He leaned over to her with wide-eyed intensity. "You can't … you can't just say _Batman_ and then not follow up on _Batman_ when we're having a conversation like this. You have _got_ to know that."

He paused. "And he's not my boyfriend," he then mumbled, in a _very_ delayed reaction.

She looked at him. Scrunched up her nose. Seemed to consider diving back into her sundae, and not come up again. Folded her hands in her lap.

"Listen," she said patiently, "We all noticed the way he looks at you. I mean, I'm sure _you_ have noticed the way he looks at you – "

He responded with a blank, disbelieving stare.

Babs sighed. "Anyway, we've _also_ all have seen him reduce grown men to tears with only … a tweezer, a spool of yarn and a flashlight, or, you know, with _nothing_. It's how he is. And, well, I'm not _saying_ he's gonna hunt down the hero who dates you and isn't him, but." She opened her hands in a show of defeat. "None of those junior crimefighters out there want _that_ kind of heat."

Dick was silent for perhaps a full minute before he narrowed his eyes and repeated, "… heat?"

A quick blush shot across Barbara's cheeks, which was rare. "Well … if you don't know what I mean …" 

She made a very vague gesture with her hand, then lowered her gaze and began moving in on his Banana Split, which was fine, since his body wasn't consumed with a desire for _eating_ , "Y'know, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman and Aquaman all asked him to go, and he's turned them down. Which is insane." She snorted. "I mean, who'd turn down _Aquaman_?"

"Of course he did, because he thinks the whole thing's stupid," Dick insisted shakily. His palms felt very damp, and so did his temple. "He doesn't want to go in the first place!"

Barbara shot him a look. A wry, silently amused, knowing look. "Have _you_ asked him to go?"

"Have I –"

He closed his mouth, and listened to the fluttery, speedy thrum of his pulse.

Bruce was …

Well. 

He was not a cute redhead, that much was clear. He wasn't … _cute_ , period. He was something entirely different. He was on a completely different plane. And plane that … he hadn't even considered riding o - 

"Ha! Wordplay," he blurted out, startled by his own train of thought.

Babs shot him a concerned look. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, and shrouded himself in silence again.

Had he been … _marked_ without even knowing it? Had he been walking around, laughing, talking, _flirting_ , all while wearing an invisible sign that said _property of the Batman_? Was this a _conscious_ thing that Bruce had been doing? Or was this something that's been happening under their noses, and everybody had taken note except for … for them?

And, most importantly, why wasn't Dick _more_ creeped out by it …?

He wasn't sure what to do with himself. His body told him that it wanted to cartwheel across the room to work it out, but unfortunately, they were in an ice cream shop.

He remained quiet and lost in thought until he noticed that Babs was getting up, throwing back her luxurious red hair with a vivid swish. Before she left, she bent down to ruffle his curls.

"Mull it over, Boy Wonder," she said, smiling. She didn't seem offended by the sudden death of their conversation. "I'm sure you'll make the right decision, whatever that is. I have to go, Dad's waiting for me. See you at the ball!"

"Yeah," he said, giving her hand a soft, absent-minded squeeze, before he looked up at her with a curiously raised eyebrow. "Wait, Red, who are _you_ going with?"

Now it was Barbara's turn to look uncomfortable. "I. Um. You'll see," she said stiffly, before she stalked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

It took him a couple more days to muster the courage to descend the steep stairs into the Batcave again. By that point, it was clear he had to get to the bottom of this. Because once he'd started imagining them going together, he'd found himself incapable to _stop_ imagining it, to the point of it being a serious working hazard-level distraction. Something had to be done.

The chilly, damp air settled on him immediately. It felt very welcome. He'd spent the past days and nights feeling alternately hot and cold, and now his body finally leveled in on "cold", which was refreshing.

He found him looming over a desk with a magnifying glass, working on his newest improvement of Bat-nanobots; or possibly "Batobots", he was still tweaking the name.

He was greeted neutrally, though not unkindly. "Dick." Bruce didn't look up. "Hand me the Infrared Bat-fragmentator. It's next to you on the left."

Dick did as he was asked, rolling his eyes a little. As if he'd _ever_ confuse the Bat-frag with _anything else_!

Bruce's voice seemed to thaw a little once he had his tool to play with. "Something you need?" He asked, tone indicating a general willingness to give it to him, whatever it was.

"Well. Yeah…" Dick started scratching his neck. This was bonkers. Barbara had probably just played a practical joke on him. She could be wicked like that; and she was really good at it.

On the other hand, Babs was wicked, but not _evil_ ; she would've called it off by now.

"So, the Inaugural Heroes Ball is tomorrow night …" Dick said to Bruce's caped back, testing the waters, but without his usual swagger. He felt like he hadn't said _anything else_ for the past few weeks, and fatigue was setting in. And he felt especially silly saying it now.

"Not a fan," Batman grunted from behind his magnifier. "I understand what Superman is trying to accomplish, but I all I can see it turn into is a gaudy, self-congratulatory _security risk_. And besides that, the name. _Heroes ball_. As if it's a label. As if it's _merchandise_. I don't like it." He paused. "And I don't like parties," he added, which Dick knew was entirely true, probably because Bruce had to attend a lot of them.

"Ah." Well, that was expected. It should've killed his resolve, but somehow, it didn't. Dick closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and powered through it. 

"Sowillyougowithme?"

"Yes."

Immediately. No hesitation.

Before Dick could help it, a long stream of air audibly left his lungs. It must've been trapped in there for a while, he hadn't noticed.

Bruce kept working for a few moments. But when no other noise would come out of his former junior partner, he put down his magnifier and fragmentator, and turned around to face Dick, who was staring at him with his jaw dangling.

"Did that startle you?" He asked quietly, carefully guarded concern barely shining through.

Dick pushed out another huff of air, and then he laughed, relieved he was given the chance to admit it. "Yeah," he breathed, feeling his face grow hot, "T-to be honest, yeah, a little -"

He tried to casually lean against the steel table behind him, which, unfortunately, had wheels, so it escaped from underneath him. He took a dive, struggling for balance. Before he could catch himself, Batman was there, doing it for him, with a gentle grip around his arm.

He wouldn't have needed it. He was good at regaining his balance.

But it was a nice thing to do, anyway.

"I don't like it," Bruce said solemnly, softly pulling him up into a standing position. "But I'll go if you want to."

Looking up at him, Dick was suddenly reminded how tall he was; tall _and_ handsome, and not even in that neutral, casual 'Oh, my best bud is really good looking'- sort of way.

He caught himself licking his lips. "Why didn't you ask?"

Bruce Wayne was a different story, but Dick felt that if the _Batman_ wanted to go out with someone, he was also the one who should ask, since the assumption would always be that the Batman _didn't_ want to go out until he stated otherwise.

"I considered it." Now _Bruce_ was licking his lips, mirroring him, which he only did when he purposely tried to psych people out, or when he was hella nervous, "But I've seen you date, Dick, and you _really_ seem to like red hair and freckles."

Dick couldn't see his full face, but the lower half looked a little vulnerable when he said that.

"Yeah, I." He gave him a sheepish grin, very aware that Bruce still had his hand on his arm, which had to mark some sort of record. "I'm, uh … trying to branch out from that. I think I might have a problem."

The bottom half of Bruce's face remained in a frown for another second. Then, a tiny, tentative smile flitted across his stern lips.

There was still something Dick needed to know, though, for his own peace of mind. "Bruce, answer me something - "

"I'll pick you up at eight sharp." His voice was warm. "We can take the Bat-glider, I've fixed it. Unless you want to go in the old Batmobile, the convertible, in which case I'd rather pick you up at _seven_ \- "

He sounded like he was looking forward to it.

"Not that." Dick gently put his hand on the taller man's chest, resting it on the breastplate. He couldn't feel Bruce through it, but his fingers started toying with the firm outline of the Bat symbol, anyway. He could feel Bruce tensing at that in a really interesting way. 

"Would you ever do something like scaring people off of going out with me? _Have_ you?" He squinted up at him, suspicious. "'cause it seems like you've freaked out _a lot_ of people."

Bruce took that inquiry very seriously, which was a sign of respect. 

"Going out with you is not a criminal offense," he said after some consideration, though he sounded like he wished it was, "So, no." He paused. "But, now that you mention it, that _would_ explain why The Flash put up his hands and exited the team room backwards shouting 'Whoa! _Whoa!'_ when I elbowed past him to get a granola bar."

"Ah." Dick breathed a sigh of relief, but then his eyebrow went up playfully. "So that means … if someone _else_ would've asked me out, you would've been _fine_ with it."

After another pause, Batman responded stiffly, "… _fine_ is a strong word – "

"That's not a strong word, Bruce," Dick softly pointed out. "That's the _opposite_ of what a strong word is."

The towering man in front of him didn't try to fight him on that point. Instead, he made a very serious face, and let go of Dick's arm to reach up. He seemed unsure where to settle on his face for a moment, before cautiously but purposely cupping Dick's cheek with his big, gloved hand. Dick felt his own breath nervously hitch in his throat, and very nearly closed his eyes, leaning into it. And somehow, through that furtive touch, he instinctively knew that, if this would ever go further, if they ever made it that far, that it would be really, really good. And very dirty.

He shuddered, making no attempt to cover it up.

It only lasted for a short moment; Bruce lowered his hand again, brushing it against Dick's arm in a vaguely flustered gesture, as if he was dusting him off or something. It was peculiar, but also sort of sweet. 

They gazed at each other for a while, not sure what to do, but also too comfortable to quit, until Batman pointed at his work station, and said the most romantic combination of words.

"Would you like to watch me demonstrate my new Bat-swarm?"

"Bat-swarm," Dick echoed, cracking his knuckles as he followed Bruce to the work bench. "Now _that's_ a name I like. Oh, and by the way." He boldly put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. "I asked _you_ out, so make no mistake, big fella. You'll be in _my_ ride tomorrow."

Superman had gone all out on the secret location he'd picked, as they found out the next night. They were greeted by a huge banner that said "WELCOME HEROES" (Bruce snarled at it almost reflexively) in red and blue, nicely decorated tables, a beautifully lit dance floor, and a variety of ice sculptures depicting some of the guest's most spectacular feats, which Superman had undoubtedly fashioned himself (because on top of everything, he was also good at arts & crafts), a buffet, and even a _chocolate fountain_.

Dick also found to his amusement that almost every hero seemed to have a special celebratory version of their costume; his favorite was probably Green Arrow's, which was made almost entirely out of green sequins (Dick had been hard-wired from an early age to like sequins) and made him look fabulous.

Even Batman, next to him, had one such special outfit. It had extra-long ears, an extra-flowy cape and an additional set of shoulder-spikes, and it made him look a little more like an evil wizard than he seemed to realize, but Dick really appreciated the effort. He himself hadn't dressed up, since he'd figured the regular Nightwing suit was festive enough; he had polished the gold ornaments to ultimate shine the night before, though.

Their drive over had been a pleasant one; at first, Dick had been the one maintaining conversation, but then he'd slyly changed the topic to all the things that could go wrong tonight and all the security hazards that arose from having all of them in one place, at which point Bruce hadn't stopped talking. They'd made contingency plans for all the worst case scenarios, which was one of Bruce's favorite things to do and went over really well. He'd even cracked a smile or two.

Dick had feared that their arrival would be awkward, considering that he'd asked out nearly every dude in the room and had been turned down, but it wasn't. Like Babs had predicted, none of that had been about him being insufferable, and everyone seemed thrilled to see him. Them. Some people even tried to sneak Dick a thumbs-up when they thought Batman wasn't looking, which didn't work a single time, since Batman's eyes were, of course, everywhere. But The Dark Knight didn't really seem to mind it.

After exchanging a few Hellos, they did what they had agreed on, and took a neat little tour of the place's available security exits, subtly positioning themselves at the best one to usher people out if need be, or stop intruders from coming in. It had been Bruce's idea, and Dick had gladly accepted it, because now that he had Batman on a date, he wasn't entirely sure how to play this.

All things considered, it was quite nice.

It wasn't long until they were approached by another couple. The sight of them made Dick grin. Even Bruce very nearly smiled. It was Robin, cheeks flushed and beaming from ear to ear, dragging Batgirl along with him. Babs wore a pink corsage around her wrist and an embarrassed look on her face.

"I asked her, and she said yes!" Jason Todd announced, breathlessly, cheerfully, and obviously.

Babs rolled her eyes. "I was worried he'd cry if I said no," she explained to the two men.

Jason scrunched up his face in a show of wounded pride, which looked adorable. "I'm standing _right here_ ," he pointed out, and then, with a quick look to his mentor and his predecessor, "And I _wasn't_ gonna cry!"

"Probably not, dimples," Babs teased him, pinching his cheek, and Dick could see that she wasn't really that displeased with her date, "But that's what you get for asking _Do you think Wonder Girl will talk to me?_ probably six times on our way over. I know I said this wasn't a _real_ date, but that's no way to treat your lady, you know. For future reference."

"True," Robin admitted, but it didn't dampen his enthusiasm. "I'll make it up to you by scoring us some _primo_ punch, okay? From the non-alcoholic bowl," he added, with a cautious look at Batman. "And then, we dance. Please? We gotta. I practiced with Alfred for this!"

"He did," Bruce affirmed in his dark voice.

"Well, I can't say not to that, then," Babs said, with a good-natured shrug.

"Thanks for letting me have the car, boss," Jason said. And then, very quickly, "You two look really swell." His blush deepened, and he scampered off twice as fast, as if he anticipated a spanking for that. Grinning, Babs went after him.

"Was it wise to lend him the Batmobile for this?" Dick wondered, once they were gone.

"The _Beta_ -Batmobile," Bruce reiterated. "And I've come to know Batgirl as a reasonably responsible driver, for someone in her profession."

He made a small pause, before he dryly said, "Nightwing, I'm grateful you didn't get me a pink corsage."

Dick crossed his arms over his chest in a mock display of remorse. "I'm kinda _regretful_ I didn't, to be honest," he said. "Holy missed opportunity!" He leaned over to nudge him. Bruce didn't move away from his touch. 

Dick shot him a bashful look. "And I would've gotten you yellow, c'mon," he whispered. "It'd look really pretty with your color scheme."

Batman let out a startled grunt-bark at 'pretty'. But he didn't seem offended.

Then, he asked, "Would you also like some … primo punch?"

The phrase didn't mesh well with his usual gravitas, and it made Dick chuckle. But then, he fell silent, watching Superman lead Lois Lane into the first dance of the night. Lois looked stunning, and, just like Jimmy Olsen, had been allowed to attend the ball under the promise she'd only take pictures for her private album.

"No…" He said quietly. "I'd like … I'd like to do _that_. I'd like to dance."

"Batman doesn't dance," was the gruff reply. But it was almost immediately followed by a low, grumpy, "Even though I. _I_ like to dance."

"I know you do." Dick smiled wistfully. "I've seen you do it."

Other couples started flooding the dance floor, among them Batgirl and a very bouncy Robin, who, Dick had to give him that, seemed to have picked up a trick or two from Alfred. They seemed so careless and happy; even Babs stopped looking sarcastic after the first few minutes. Dick envied them a little. Even though solemnly guarding the exits with Batman while everyone else was having a ball wasn't the worst thing in the world. Especially not when he suddenly felt the warmth of his arm wrapped around his waist.

That was when they caught the host's eyes.

"Come on over here, fellas." Lois Lane waved in their direction, completely unimpressed with Batman's spikey, forbidding appearance. "I know you want to. It's a party!"

"Yes, please do," Superman agreed, whirling Lois around while trying very hard not to catapult her through the next window by accident, "I _had_ to promise Superboy he could dj, but I made him swear he'd play a few slow numbers," he added, with a twinkle in his eyes.

Dick snuck a look at Bruce, and realized he was subtly bouncing his heels in tune with the music, looking conflicted.

"Y'know," he started, without expecting too much from it. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think if someone musters the courage to ask _you_ to a _dance_ , they should at least get _one_ dance, don't you th – "

He didn't get to finish his sentence when he felt the grip around his waist tighten, and was swept off into the dancing crowd. As usual, once Batman had made up his mind about something, he was moving fast.

It wasn't until they've reached the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by music and laughter and lightness, that Bruce put one hand on his hip and finally, _finally_ started to lead. 

And Dick let him.


End file.
